Calypso

I didn’t really like her

When she was here.

She wasn’t cuddly or sweet.

She scratched me and bit my book.

She made a mess of the yard,

Piles everywhere, her personal privy.

Animal parts strewn here and there,

Morbid gifts left on the porch.

I sometimes wished she wasn’t,

When she was here.

I count each day since I last saw her.

Now that she’s gone.

Her brother searches, calling

All around the yard

And there are lizards and mice

Racing and darting from here to there.

No happy cry as she trots out

To say hello in the morning

Or follow me down the road

When I walk the dogs.

I thought I didn’t like her

But the hole in my heart aches

Now that she’s gone.